


What It Means

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Episode: s09e23 Do You Believe in Miracles?, Family, First Love, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, QueerSamWeek, Romance, Sad Sam, Sam Takes Care Of Dean, Tragedy, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s never been the right time, but now it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What It Means

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for ‘Do You Believe in Miracles?’
> 
> Written for Day 7 of #queersamweek on tumblr, which is Free For All.

The first time Dean had died, there had been no opportunity for Sam to tell him the truth that he had kept buried ever since they were kids. Dean was up and alive one minute and then the next he was dead, lying there on the ground, lifeless and bloody and with dull eyes that were still beautiful when Sam looked into them.

When his brother had come back to life he was too preoccupied with Ruby, with thinking that he loved Ruby. He imagined, just as he had all those other times, that Dean would reject him. Instead, he sought revenge on the demon who had sent his Dean to hell in the first place, figuring he could show his love and his devotion that way. It hadn’t worked though, it only caused a rift between the two of them that he wondered could ever be mended.

So much had happened since then, and during all that time he still hadn’t had the guts to say what he wanted to. It was never the right time, and this reality made Sam sick to his stomach. Dean had to know how much Sam loved him, even between all the betrayal and the fighting and splitting up.

Even when Sam told Dean he wouldn’t do everything he possibly could to save him, Dean had to know he was lying, had to know that he hadn’t meant it and would never mean it.

But Dean was dying in his arms now, _again_ , and he had to say _something_.

“I’m proud of us.”

Sam feels everything inside him come to conflict; he is suffocating in his own emotions. He has to hold on, has to hold on for Dean.

“No no no,” he shakes his head and taps Dean’s cheek gently first, then more incessantly. His brother opens his eyes again and Sam sighs in relief. “Just wait a minute, Dean,” he begs. “You got to say what you wanted to say, now let me.” Dean looks tired, so damn tired, and Sam really wants to let him rest, but they just need to hold on for a few moments more.

It’s torture, forcing Dean to stay alive for just a few more seconds, for his own selfishness and need to not feel so guilty. He can’t let Dean go into the dark alone without knowing it though, wants to give Dean just that little bit of warmth and sense of home before he’s lost from Sam forever.

“I love you, Dean. God only knows how long I wanted to say it. It was never the right time for us, and I always thought that you would reject me.” He swallows down a sob, stroking Dean’s cheek gently, trying to ignore all the blood marring his brother’s stunning face, his uniquely feminine features. Sam kisses that freckled nose, ghosts his lips across Dean’s eyelids and his long, wet eyelashes, and he rubs his own tear-stained skin against Dean’s, wanting to feel all of him. “But I love you so much, Dean.” He chokes the words out, holding his brother close, as if not ever letting him go will keep him here because Sam needs him to be _here._

“Love you too, S’my.”

He can’t breathe as Dean collapses into him, doesn’t want to breathe as his brother’s forehead is tucked securely under Sam’s chin and Sam hides him away from the rest of the world. It’s too late though, there’s nothing left to protect Dean from. The world can’t hurt him anymore than it already has. He cries, sobs loudly and violently for a long, _long_ time. There is nothing and no one that can take him from his Dean now.

The younger Winchester boy gently lifts his older brother up into his arms and carries him outside bridal style, laying him carefully down in the backseat of the Impala. Sam drives them to a quiet spot, parks the car and then crawls into the backseat and hovers over his big brother, a relatively clean rag in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He lovingly cleans the blood off Dean’s skin, taking his time and continuing to be slow and methodical even when his arms and legs start cramping up. This is his last expression of love and dedication to his brother, and he’ll be damned if he rushes it for his own needs.

Dean looks somewhat like Dean again when the blood is gone and only bruises remain. But he is still and lifeless and even though Sam had closed his eyes earlier he wants to open them again now. He doesn’t, if only to give Dean some rest, peace and dignity. He might wash Dean’s hair with shampoo when he gets back to the bunker, and the very thought warms him from the inside.

Sam will stitch Dean up later too, when he’s up to it.

He leans down and kisses him, a soft and slow, yet long kiss that Sam draws out for as long as he’ll let himself. He lovingly strokes Dean’s face, neglecting no part of it, and his trembling fingers run absentmindedly through the sweat soaked spikes of his hair.

The Impala shields them from unwanted eyes, cushioning Dean’s head and battered body. Sam lifts his brother’s upper body and slides in behind him, placing Dean’s head in his lap, his hand holding and squeezing Dean’s own. Tears are running down his cheeks again, like a waterfall, but he lets them cleanse the remaining dirt on his brother’s face. If Dean could see him he would call him a girl, and if Dean were still here then Sam would shut him up with another kiss.

_I love you, Dean._

After the agonizingly long ride back to the only home they’ve ever really had, Sam lays him down gently on Dean’s own bed. He remembers vividly how his brother never had a bed, and how much that and his new room had meant to him. It seems only right to let Dean sleep in his own room now.

He looks down at Dean and he never wants to look away again.

Sam feels too big for his own skin, like he’s about to burst out of it at any minute. If he hadn’t felt loved by Dean all these years then he certainly does now. There will be no knowing what Dean meant with his last words, but Sam knows enough.

He will bring Dean back, no matter what it takes.

And they will have their happy ending.

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve really been wanting to write something concerning this episode, but I haven’t gotten my head together until now. Leave it to me to write something angst-ridden when you give me a free for all.


End file.
